Blown Away
by MassEffectMayhem
Summary: A nice shore leave ends when the weather turns. Shepard and her friends help with the evacuation, positive they have gotten out everyone. When it's time for Shepard to save herself, she realizes someone is missing.


_[Author's Note]_

 _This is an attempt at writing a drabble for the prompt "Weather"._

 _Post-ME3. Hints at Shakarian, it's not the focus though._

* * *

Shepard threw herself against the cockpit window of the ET3, the last transport vehicle in sight. Her fists hammered against the windscreen. Seconds later, the driver emerged from the back.

"THAT'S ALL OF THEM! GET OUT OF HERE!" She yelled on top of her lungs, the wind dragging the words from her lips and hurling them across the sea. She shouted, her arms circling and flailing until the man nodded. The engine started, and she stepped aside. Fifteen more fearful souls, caught in soaked, trembling bodies, on their way to safety.

Trees were broken off like toothpicks. Small, civilian vehicles, fences, shingles were tumbling across the road like toys thrown by an angry child.

Shepard stared after the transporter as if the stern glare of an Alliance commander was enough to save the vehicle from being buried under the avalanche of debris surrounding them.

"So much for shore leave on Earth. LIARA!" Again, she was shouting in vain. She and her best friends had enjoyed a lovely morning close to the beach. A blue sky, a warm sun, but not too warm to lure anyone but the early birds out of their beds. Around noon, the streets and small cafes had been filled, mostly with humans. Only few asari and salarians here and there showed humanity wasn't alone in space, and a good number of non-humans were from Shepard's crew.

This small village at one of the many North European coasts hadn't been an insider tip for vacationers, and would never be. The storm would have destroyed most of it once it was over.

In the early afternoon, dark clouds and a strong, fresh breeze had come, and with them, the warnings.

 _Immediate evacuation!_

By the time the last civilians were huddling together in the ET3, the sky was black. The whistling breeze had grown into a howling storm, ripping and tearing apart what was forced to stay.

It was beginning to rain.

Shepard was running, jumping over upturned benches and broken, flickering streetlights. The day had been turned into night, water streamed from the sky and down the streets and sidewalks. A pair of headlights flared up, not far away from her.

A ground cab stopped inches in front of her. The side door opened, and a slim figure emerged.

"Shepard! Quick!"

Shepard dived inside, sliding on the passenger seat.

She was soaked. Her hair was sticking to her face, her shirt to her body. Water was dripping from the seam of her shorts.

"WHAT?" With the storm shut out, the silence was deafening. She saw Liara talking, but didn't understand her at first.

"I asked if Garrus went with the civilians, and where we should meet him?" Liara repeated. The asari was astonishing. She maneuvered the vehicle through the growing stream, past any obstacle the storm was hurling into their way. Her face was tensed, blue, biotic light flickered across her skin, but yet, her voice was gentle and understanding.

It would have been soothing to hear her voice if it weren't for her words.

"Garrus didn't join the civilians. Last time I saw him he ushered that old couple into a transporter." A cold hand seemed to wrap around her throat, trying to cut the air off to stop her from speaking.

"Liara, please tell me he's with you, hiding in the trunk or something." Then, she could tick him off for an inappropriate prank in the worst time he could have chosen. But Liara's face, flushed before from focusing on driving, paled.

"Stop the car!"

"Shepard, I'm sure he's somewhere-"

"STOP THE FUCKING CAR, LIARA!" A sudden fear. A hunch. No, not a hunch, she knew it.

"But…!"

Shepard threw herself across Liara, reaching for the controls. The asari shook her off, and the cab slowed down.

"I'm coming with you!" Liara unbuckled her seatbelt. Shepard had already opened the car and jumped off.

"No! You return to the others. Come back when this mess is over and pick us up. And bring dry clothes. This is an order, T'Soni!"

Shepard slammed the door shut and ran into the darkness, her hunch leading her to the beach.

"GARRUS!" She wanted to break down, she wanted to thank her instincts on her knees. They had been here the evening before. A path slithered away from the beach and up to a small elevation, the remains of a former dam that had been thought obsolete after the climate had shifted a century ago. Yesterday, it had been crowded by couples watching the sun touching the horizon and setting the sky on fire.

Now, a tall, slim figure was standing rigid and alone.

The wind screamed around him, rain splashed into his face as he stared into the distance.

"Garrus!" she yelled again. She grabbed him by his shoulder, shaking him.

He didn't twitch. Water was running over him, dripping from his fringe and mandibles. She saw the lines of his muscles and scales through his white shirt, she felt him shivering, but he didn't seem to see or feel her at all. She backed off.

"GARRUS!" Shouting his name like a battle cry, she tackled him. The weight of her whole body didn't bring him down, but he staggered a few steps to the side.

And stood still again.

"Goddammit!"

"Isn't it beautiful?" His voice was so clear it sent a shudder down her spine. He was still staring at the sea.

"Fuck this, Garrus, we gotta seek cover!"

"No." A sense of joy was ringing from this one word, scaring her more than the storm for a second. She looked up to him, but he only pointed ahead of them. "Look!"

Her eyes followed the direction reluctantly.

Lightening danced through the air, bright and sharp as it mocked the rolling black mass the clouds had become. The unruly sea, a pitch black pool promising nothing but death, glistened and sparkled below the flashes.

Waves were growing and breaking and resurrecting themselves to only greater strength as they marched towards them, calling for a war the land could never win.

The beach had fallen and become part of the sea. Water crashed against the dam, the tremor under her feet warning her of the earth's waning strengths. Spray and rain hit her face, and she tasted salt on her lips.

 _A grave wet as the sea and death tastes like salt._

The thought sobered her up.

"MOVE, VAKARIAN! THAT'S AN ORDER!" Screaming, yelling, she jumped in front of him, standing on her toes, still too small to block his line of sight. Her fists were drumming on his chest, but he was caught by the spell of the storm.

Shepard looked up at him, struggling against the urge to turn around and fall for the same foul magic again.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. Her arm shot up, and a punch hit his face. She more felt than heard his mandible crack under the impact.

"Ugh!" Groaning, he bent over, holding the hurting side. "Shepard, why?!" he hissed through clenched teeth and looked at his hand. Shepard was relieved, there was no blood.

"Later. RUN!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her. She laughed when he shouted "CRAP", and cried when she was suddenly the one being pulled along.

x x x

"We'll get in trouble," Garrus warned when Shepard handed him a blanket, but he hurried to wrap it around his shoulders anyway. Shepard sat down next to him with a second blanket. It was scratchy and the smell of dust tickled in her nose.

"We'll tell them to be proud that shit's not falling apart after lying around for two centuries. Now the door just needs to be strong enough to withstand the water."

Garrus had saved them. Nobody else had been interested in joining a sightseeing tour including historic military sites yesterday. Sure, it was Garrus' fault they were stuck in the middle of a storm tide, but if it had been anybody else, they wouldn't have known about this ancient bunker. Built during an area when storms like this were common, she assumed they were safer here than in any other building. She just hoped the sea wouldn't bury them. She wasn't eager to find out if the provisions were in a better or worse state than the blankets.

"Care to tell me what you were thinking?" She gave him a nudge. The way he jerked his gaze away from the door worried her, and he talked like he was still caught in a dream.

"I've never seen anything like this. Storms on Palaven are, well, dryer. I remember helping Jack with the civilians, and suddenly, you were there, punching me. No idea how I got there in the first place." He shrugged, and raised his head, slowly turning his eyes at the door. "Maybe I should go out and check-"

"You stay here!" Shepard grabbed his hand, pulling him back on the bunk bed they were sitting on. "Tell me about this place. How old again is it?" To her relief, he snapped out of it and immediately started a monolog that reminded her painfully of history lessons in school. Yet, she rather drowned in dry facts than in the sea while trying to save a turian who had fallen in love with a storm.


End file.
